The Killer's Creed
by KenSan1990
Summary: Sano, an assassin, never thought he'd be stuck with his enemy, Kenshin, after a hit gone wrong. Now, with their organizations ready to dispose of them, they are forced to work together and maybe learn to like each other more than they thought. KS yaoi
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I did this over a random camping trip...I want to see what people think about it...so, here goes.

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><p>Chapter 1<p>

"God, if this job were any worse, I would be pissing in a jar," Sanosuke was never short of complaints. Even as he squatted atop of a nearly finished high rise, courtesy of a couple of construction workers nearly shitting themselves at the sight of the barrel of his gun sticking from the tennis bag, he couldn't manage to find a good thing to say. His eye was pressed to the scope and his finger was getting to know the trigger better than his last girlfriend.

"Yeah well, I can smell that dinero a mile away," his partner smiled. "Once I have that money in my hands, me and Monica are going to Rio for the sexiest week of my life," Sanosuke only rolled his eyes.

"Shut up and keep an eye out like I told you to," Sanosuke adjusted the sight and glanced around. His mission was clear: kill the corrupt politician before the politician decided he was going to oust the organization. He'd only been a customer of the Killer's Creed for the last few years of his senate tenure. Now he thought he would be a hero because he thought that the Creed was getting out of hand. One bad shot ended up killing an innocent bystander. The operative was handled immediately, and the media was paid through the ass, as well as the police. Nothing was off. But the politician was holding a press conference because he thought things were getting 'too dirty'.

"All right, all right," Sanosuke paid little attention to his partners. If things worked out the way that he would have liked, there would have been no 'partners'. But the business needed somebody to train their younger generations. Sanosuke, being a seasoned veteran, was the prime choice. His only problem was he wasn't a great mentor, not that the Creed faulted him for that. "What do you do with the money? You seem like that type to stash it in a Swiss bank account or something…"

"If I tell you, will you shut up?"

"Um…"Sanosuke knew that his partner was looking at him dumbly, but he ignored it. "I guess. I mean, look, this guy's not suppose to be out for another five minutes."

Sanosuke took his eye from the sight and looked his partner in the eye. At least he did for a few moments before it seemed that his partner's head exploded. Sanosuke was hardly taken aback. His shoulders dropped. "I lose more partners that way."

"Take your hands off the gun, Sagara," Sanosuke's hands released from the gun and rose as though he was surrendering. "Get up and turned around. You won't get hurt."

"Funny, you said the same thing to Aoshi before you broke his jaw," but Sanosuke was still rising from his squatted position and turning around to look at the red haired man that had a gun poised toward his chest. "We need to stop meeting like this, detective."

"Stop killing and we will," the red head smirked and lowered the gun.

Sanosuke spit out a toothpick and lowered his hands. "How do you know I'm not armed?"

"I trust you," the red head walked closer. There was nothing about him that said he was a detective. He didn't have that overworked, underpaid weariness on his face. His clothes were always neat, and every hair was in place. What especially gave away that he wasn't part of a police force were the black market gun and the silencer that was fitted on the end of it. If the red head was a cop, which Sanosuke highly doubted but never investigated, he would have been a cop patrolling five and dime stores in the middle of nowhere because that was the type of person he was. He was too calm for his own good.

Getting mixed up in the dangerous business that they often exchanged in showed that he had another side to him. Not a darker side, that much was for certain. He acted on part of a reckless vigilante; a clean Batman, but a dirtied Superman. There was no glory in his pursuit of those in the Creed.

"Trust me? Why would someone as smart as you do that?" Sanosuke was getting dangerously close to the red head, and it was at that point that he could see the scar that was neatly covered by a long strand of hair. His left cheek was marred, likely by his work, in a fashion that made him seem as though he were doing God's work, and that when he finally became a martyr he would already have a seal of approval. The cross on his cheek was rough but faded. How long ago had it happened? And Sanosuke, being his usual imaginative self, could consider the possibility of the red head sitting in his bathroom with a knife and trying to cut neatly but being a cry baby about it.

"Because, I already know about that knife on your thigh," the gun was still resting at the red head's side. How close would Sanosuke have to get before it was brought up again? Close enough that he was standing over the red head when it was pressed against his breastbone. The red head didn't even have to extend his arm. "We really shouldn't complicate things. One body, sure, but two? Too much paperwork."

"Then don't shoot."

In a few swift moves, Sanosuke grabbed the gun and twisted it away from the detective. The quick and decisive move was no surprise to the red head, but when Sanosuke blindly aimed away from the both of them, mostly in the general vicinity of a slowly gathering crowd of civilians, and pulled down on the hammer, the red head's face was stricken.

"I'm going to get my money."

"You wouldn't."

"Oh, I would. And then I'd mail the gun to the police and let them take you into custody for killing the senator."

The red head's grin faltered. A small cackle of laughter could be heard coming from between his closed lips. This minuet was nothing they hadn't danced before. Except this time, it was assassination and, likely, treason if the red head was unwittingly linked to the Creed. Sanosuke realized the ramifications of everything even before he took the red head's gun. How long would it take for him to pack the rifle back into the tennis bag and go back down to ground level and look like a regular citizen? If the red head wasn't involved—less than five minutes. But he complicated things. Now he was left with a dead partner, two sets of rifles to break apart and carry down, not to mention being tailed, ostentatiously, by a short red headed police officer wannabe whose gun he would still be carrying. He wasn't in the mood to steal a car. Too much.

"I'd like to see you try Sagara, I really would."

Even from where they were they could hear the news stations as they closed in on the senator, now revealing himself on public library steps. Sanosuke turned the gun back on the red head and pulled the trigger. Without caring if he hit the red head or not, Sanosuke dropped the gun and turned toward his rifle, knelt down, took two seconds to find the senator in the sight (and one to caress the trigger) before pulling. The shot rang out, travelled the distance from the high rise to the steps of the library, and within seconds there was a splatter of blood.

It wasn't a kill shot.

Sanosuke didn't have time to clean up the job. He turned around to the red head that was back on his feet, injured or not, and had the gun back in his hand. How long would it take the police to find him on the high rise? How long would it take to break apart his own rifle, stuff it in the tennis bag, and simply run like a coward and let his dead partner take blame? He didn't care. He picked up the rifle and ran by the red head, shots hitting at his heels, and began breaking the rifle apart as he struggled down the stairs.

This was all wrong. He shouldn't have tried the shot if he wasn't sure. He shouldn't have tempted the red head. Now he was guilty for hurting the man (assuming he had been hit because Sanosuke hadn't heard any gasp of pain). There were footsteps behind him. Sanosuke ducked into small crevice and shoved the rifle into the tennis bag. Too little, too late. The silencer was in his face and the red head was standing before him. There was no pain on his face even though there was blood dripping from his fingers and onto the floor.

"Don't do this. I didn't kill the sorry bastard."

"I've been chasing your for two years now. Don't think that I'm going to let you get away from this…predicament you could have gotten yourself out of in ten million different ways."

Sanosuke backed up against the wall and kept his ears open for extra pairs of feet. Any second he was expecting the police to be storming up the high rise and arresting him. The worst part about it was that the red head would be considered a hero for it all—backing the would-be assassin up against the wall. The police wouldn't care that he had a black market gun with a silencer; hell, he caught the guy with that tried to kill the senator. The man would be a national hero!

The only thing that came to Sanosuke's mind was the knife that was at the small of his back. The red head already knew about the one pressed on his thigh, but Sanosuke always brought a spare. He didn't doubt that that knife was also accounted for, but it never hurt to try. He eased his hand to the small of his back and lifted his shirt. The gun was pressed underneath his chin. One shot and the bullet would go through his mouth, his sinuses and then come out through cerebral cortex without ringing through the empty hallways of the high rise. All that would be left would be brain matter on the wall. Still, he chanced it. Once his fingers were running over the leather band on the handle of his knife, Sanosuke knew that there was no going back. The knife whipped out and cut upward, the gun knocked from the red head's hand, and his other fist was in the red head's stomach.

Nothing fazed the guy. His other hand, his wounded hand, was around Sanosuke's wrist and turning it painfully. Still, the gun was out from under his chin. Before he knew it, he was pressed against a railing and half of his body was leaning over a fifteen story drop to the bottom. The red head's gun was on the floor and his hands were on the collar of Sanosuke's shirt, a makeshift look to make it seem as if all he was doing was going to play tennis as he walked about the chaotic streets after the kill.

The only good part was the knife was now at the red head's throat.

"We can do this one of two ways," Sanosuke managed to say despite the collar of his shirt digging into his windpipe. "You can chuck me over and try to play hero, but if you're as I am, you don't want anyone exposing you. So, in light of that, why don't we split this fifty-fifty? Partners in crime and all that jazz, hm?"

"You don't exactly look to be in position to bargain with me, Mr. Sagara."

"Au contraire," Sanosuke pressed the knife a little closer to the red head's Adam's apple. "I am in the perfect position. I don't know about you, but I know that the police are going to be here in a New York minute, not to mention the senator's security. And by the looks of it, if I didn't hit an artery, I got close."

"It's a flesh wound," and they both allowed a second to drink in the stupid humor. With the moment that it seemed the red head was distracted, Sanosuke kicked at his footing and, with the hands free of his collar, grabbed the red head by the arms and flung him into the wall.

"What are you? Some kind of bounty hunter? A corrupt officer? Hm?"

The red head was working his way to his feet. He was getting just a little dizzy, as said his unstill footing. There was a small gush of blood that fell from his sleeve.

"If I told you that, it wouldn't be fun now would it?"

Sanosuke didn't take the time to listen to the red head. He darted down the flight of stairs and kept going, bounding over two or three at a time. Now his only fear was missing the edge of one and landing flat on his face. Luckily, as this kind of scenario had been practiced on many occasions, that didn't happen. He was at a landing that was only two stories from the main level. There were voices at the bottom. He looked up and saw that his injured detective was climbing down via the railings instead of taking the typical route.

"Just a heads up your jackass! There are cops, and they're ready to arrest your scrawny ass!"

That was when he realized there seemed to be a supernatural streak in his little follower. The red head, from at least three stories above, let go of the railing and let himself plummet until he hit the railing across from Sanosuke and, without taking a second to reposition himself, pressed his feet on the railing and spring boarded over the railing across the way, climbing over. Sanosuke looked down to the voices.

"We're royally fucked. This is your fault entirely," Sanosuke looked to the red head that had also become immersed in the voices coming from below.

"There's got to be another way out," the red head murmured. He was clutching his shoulder, the acrobatic trick obviously taking the most out of its usability. "Go in there," he pointed toward a door just off the stairwell.

"What good will that do?"

"There's gotta be another set of steps. There always is."

For their sake, Sanosuke hoped to God he was right.

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><p>AN: So, tell me what you think so I can see if I will continue it or not...till next time, KenSan out!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I don't know why I never updated this...I guess I forgot I put it up. So I'm sorry. This be the continuation. Enjoy.

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><p><span>Chapter 2.<span>

Sanosuke shook his head, but with the police closing in on them, he took the door as his only salvation. If there was ever a person that he would trust, it was the red head that had the insane ability to track him down no matter where he was. Once inside, the red head locked the door and started looking around at all the others knowing that there had to be some way out. "Look, we're only two stories up, how about we just jump?"

"We're surrounded probably," Sanosuke said. The red head paid no attention and ran along the length of the room. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Looking for a blind spot. I thought you were a good assassin."

"Well, no offense, I'm not really used to running away like a cockroach."

"Shut your trap and get over here," Sanosuke went over to the window that the red head stood next to. They were facing what looking to be a back parking lot. "Come on, this is our only hope. They'll flood here too."

"So what, do I just go along with you and not expect you to take me to your Major Domo?"

The red head gave him a severe glare, and a chill ran up Sanosuke's spine. The window was eased open and the screen was kicked out. The red head hung out of it first, and when Sanosuke got beside it, the red head was scaling down using the little ornaments that decorated the outside of the high rise. Sanosuke followed.

"What now smart one?" Sanosuke asked. Once he was low enough he dropped and impacted against the concrete. The red head was scanning around the parking lot.

"We need to get out. How quickly can you hotwire a car?"

There was an abundance of voices that were just around the corner. Sanosuke yanked on the red head's arm and began to pull him in the opposite direction. "You can't hotwire a car MacGyver?"

The red head finally let out a whimper, and Sanosuke knew that it was because of him tugging on the red head's injured arm. The area around the high rise was covered by just as many construction workers as there were police.

A grin came onto the Sanosuke's face at the sight of one exiting his car. He poised the knife forward and advanced on the unsuspecting construction worker. "Get away from your damn car and you won't be hurt," Sanosuke said. The red head rolled his eyes at the predictable banter. Still, the construction worker had his hands up, his keys dangling freely. Sanosuke swiped the keys and the red head got around to the opposite side, opening the door and sliding in. "Thank you kindly," Sanosuke sneered. He had the keys in the ignition and the car in gear even before the construction worker could scream for help.

The car squealed around and Sanosuke pounded on the gas. Though there were many people, the mean roar of the tires moved them out of the streets while in their panic. The red head was counting under his breath. A police car blocked them. Sanosuke hit the break and looked around. He tried pushing the car into reverse, but he was met with an angry growl.

"You need to use the clutch! The clutch!" the red head yelled.

"I know that!" Sanosuke did so, trying once again with success. He began driving in reverse, his body turned back to make sure that he didn't hit anyone. The red head was still counting under his breath. "What the hell are you counting?"

"The police cars," the red head took a deep breath. "You need to get me somewhere and get me some help. If I bleed out much longer I'm going to go into shock."

"All right, all right. Let me get us out of this jam first," Sanosuke said, and he turned the car abruptly, the red head hitting against the window. Sanosuke kept backing through an alley until he hit the street across the way. He shot the car into fourth and hit the gas, carefully maneuvering through the daytime traffic. "I know a good doctor. Question is how much you trust me."

"Not that much," the red head shook his head. "But I'll have to."

"Right-o," Sanosuke kept going, his route becoming complicated as he weaved in and out of alleys to try and keep cops from spotting the car. He knew as soon as he was safe he would switch out the plates and get rid of any of the personal belongings. The car was his property now; he was going to make it last as long as it could.

A little sureness in him came when they crossed a train track just as the bar was coming down. The whistle was in the distance, and the police sirens, while blaring, were far enough away that Sanosuke could hit the gas and make his way across town. He looked over to the red head and noticed that the injury was taking its toll. The red head was sweating, and his face was pale. The red head licked his lips and looked at Sanosuke. "What are you staring at? Keep driving."

"I could kick you to the curb," Sanosuke said, "consider this a great favor, jackass."

"Kenshin," the red head muttered. "Call me Kenshin. I'm getting tired of all this detective and jackass nonsense."

"Kenshin? You got a last name?"

"Don't push it," they were both laughing a little. "I'm getting nauseous."

"We're almost there. Don't barf on the rugs, they just got stolen."

"Funny, funny," the red head rolled his head over so that he could get a half decent look at the man who he'd been following. "I don't know about you, but I have no idea what I'm going to tell my wife when I come home with my arm messed up."

"I'm not married. I wouldn't want to put a chick through the hurt if I got my brain's blown out or got chucked off a building or something drastic like that," Sanosuke took the hula girl off the dashboard and chucked her out the window. When he looked down to the cup holder he saw a pack of Marlboro's. "I can't believe that you married."

"I spawned too," Kenshin said. His voice had turned whimsical. Only remnants of the hard edged detective like sound remained. "He's three. Cute as a button. Looks just like me."

"Good for you. What do you tell your wife when you're out chasing Creeds?"

"Sorry honey, meeting ran long, can't come home till tomorrow," Kenshin smiled. Sanosuke had taken the liberty of stealing a cigarette and lighting it up. Kenshin stared at him as he blew smoke out and relaxed in the seat, one hand on the steering wheel. "Doesn't happen often enough for her to notice anything's up."

"What does she think you do?"

"Sales representative for a pharmaceutical company," Kenshin replied. "It's not actually a lie. It's a good job."

"You trust me with that information?"

"There are thousands of pharmaceutical companies and you only know a name that may or may not be real so, I don't have much that I feel I should worry about. When I tell you my social security number, then I'll worry."

"Then why are you chasing the Creed? Does it get you off to bust people and blow their brains out?" Kenshin chuckled. "What, did I say something stupid?"

"No, no. Nothing like that. I just wonder why you think I'll tell you why I do this," Sanosuke pressed down on the gas as they broke into a long stretch of country road. He shifted into fifth gear. "If this were a convertible, I'd say you were trying to seduce me."

"Yeah right. Hate to break it to you, but I'm straight as an arrow. You? I don't know about you that much. For all I know, you're lying about your wife and kid. Could be a ploy."

"You don't trust people much do you?"

"Something tells me you trust people with too much," Sanosuke's foot was on the floor, but he was trying to push down harder. The engine roared, and there was a delightful little tremble in the car as it zoomed down the desolate highways. The trees were nothing but blurs, and the signs little more than well remembered place markers. The only thing that Sanosuke ever worried about were deer, and even then the only thing that he figured was that he was going so fast that when he hit the deer it would just vault over the car.

"I have my f-far share o-of s-scrutiny," Kenshin leaned forward and hung his head. "H-how far is it?"

"Just another few miles. Shouldn't take too long, I'm nearly a hundred in this piece of shit."

"R-remind me t-to thank you," Kenshin muttered. The only thing that was keeping his head from sinking into his knees was where it was resting against the dashboard. Sanosuke slowed and turned into a long dirt driveway mostly covered by trees. He pushed his way through all the mess until he came up on what was once a farmhouse that, now, had been renovated into a state of the art compound. Of course the outward dilapidation wouldn't show that. The gutters were rusted, the paint needed to be retouched, and the shutters were hanging by their last nail.

Sanosuke pulled the car up into an empty garage and got out. He shut the garage door and walked around to the passenger side, opening the door. Kenshin nearly fell out of the side and into Sanosuke's arms. A door that led to the house opened up and a long haired man walked out.

"Jesus Sano! We didn't ask you to bring the kill home."

"He's not the kill you asswipe. He's a tail that got trapped with me," Sanosuke practically dragged Kenshin into the home and handed him off to a woman that was lingering in the doorway. "He's been shot in the arm, I'm not sure where but I think he nicked something."

The woman stared on in disbelief, and she shook her head as she nearly hoisted the man in her arms and carried him off into the innards of the old house. The door blew closed and Sanosuke turned to the man that had first greeted him. A light flicked on.

"You steal a car?" the man asked.

"Yeah, you could say. Kinda almost got caught by the police."

"Why'd you kinda almost get caught by the police?" the man asked. He already had the hood of the car up and there was a drill in his hands. "Sano, I don't like that silence. If you did something stupid, you better fess up now or face wrath later."

"I almost got caught by the jackass in there because he's some whacked out vigilant who's interested in the Creed, and then when I had the chance I thought I'd take the shot, but I don't think it's a kill shot—no check that—I know it's not a kill shot. So I'm royally fucked and ready to be hung by piano wire at any fucking moment."

The man lifted up from the car and stared at Sanosuke with a doe eyed stare. "You missed? _You _missed? How the hell did _you_ miss? It's…it's you for Chrissake."

"Shut up Katsu," Sanosuke crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. He had his eye on a row of tools that Katsu often kept out. Some of them he could recognize for the use of cars as Katsu did everything from detailing to complete breakdowns and rearrangements. He picked up a wrench and played with it. "I won't let it sit too long, but I need the heat off me long enough that I can go back and kill the guy."

"Assuming he doesn't rat us out."

"That won't happen. It may not have been a kill shot, but I can guaran-fucking-tee you that he'd going to be knocked out for a while. Even if I shot the bastard in the leg, the guy's got so much hypertension it probably gave him a heart attack."

"They're not going to let you go in on another operation. Not until They fuck you up the ass a few thousand times."

"Glad to know that They won't kill me," Sanosuke slammed the wrench on the worktable.

"You're one of Their best operatives. It's not like They're going to kill you. Hopefully your face wasn't caught on camera, and even if it was, They'll probably just rearrange it for you. They might let Megumi," he jabbed his thumb to the lady doctor that dragged Kenshin inside, "do it for you."

"Enough about my fuck up, how about we talk about what you can do with this grand theft auto."

"Well, not too hard. I got some plates I can put on, that'll at least get rid of the trace, but I'm thinking this maroon color's got to go. Not to mention that interior. Too bloody," Katsu cracked a grin. "Did you bring the rifle back?"

"Yeah, should be in the backseat in the bag," that was when Sanosuke thought of the gun that Kenshin had. It had been flung to the ground and never picked up. Sanosuke bit his lip and looked down his hands, partially covered in Kenshin's blood, and to the little swirls on his fingertips.

"Katsu, do we have some kind of decently corrosive acid?"

"Should. Why?"

"Clean up some evidence," Katsu slammed the hood of the car.

"What'd you touch and leave behind?"

"He had a gun that I touched," Sanosuke looked over to the closed door. "What would be easier, acid or her performing some grafting?"

"I don't know if she's got any spare skin," Katsu mocked. "You know, Dillinger did that and it didn't work. I don't know why you think it would."

Sanosuke lowered his head in dismay.

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><p>An: Well, will that problem be solved at all? Will Kenshin survive being shot? Till next time, KenSan out!


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